PARTING FOR THE BATTLE.

Wife.

My husband, must we part? the battle rages;

With fell intent the rebel host engages,

And thou wilt fall untimely in the strife:

Think, think upon thy orphans wildly weeping

No hand to guard their waking hours or sleeping;

And oh, what pangs await thy widowed wife!

Soldier.

Dear wife, it grieves my soul to leave thee lonely;

Thee have I loved, Heaven witness, and thee only,

And these sweet treasures which our union bless;

But hark! our country on her brave sons calleth,

And if in her defense thy husband falleth,

Let this great glory soothe thy deep distress.

For, when once more our glorious flag is flying

O’er all the land, its envious foes defying,

Transcending e’en its ancient splendor’s pride;

Then, as the people cheer the emblem loudly,

Amongst the matrons thou canst stand up proudly

And say, “for this my noble husband died.”

And when to youth and womanhood upspringing

Our little ones shall hear the echoes ringing

With deeds embalmed in fame’s immortal story;

Then shall their bosoms with proud feelings swelling

Find consolation for their loss by telling;

“Our honored father shares this fame and glory.”

Wife.

But thou, meantime, bereft of sense and feeling,

Shalt sleep, death’s cold embrace thy limbs congealing;

Thy home, thy love, thy country, all forgot;

Unknown to thee the glory of the nation—

Unseen its splendor, its regeneration;

All these will be to thee as they were not!

Soldier.

’Tis true death drowns man’s sense in Lethe’s slumber;

And ages pass without or note or number,

Yet love of home and country cannot die;

My spirit from yon beautiful Elysian

Rapt in the glory of ecstatic vision,

The loved of earth shall ever hover nigh.

The brightest Angels round the throne eternal,

Gaze on no vision purer, more supernal,

Than Liberty by human virtue won:

The highest throne on God’s right hand in Heaven

To him who for his country falls is given;

The Hero’s death is endless life begun!

But soon the last “adieus” were said,

The kiss exchanged, the tear-drop shed,

And then our heroes, girt for fight,

Marched forth to battle in their might:

Like a broad river on the plain

That sweeps majestic to the main,

Now swelled by many a creek and rill

From mountain side or verdant hill,

To which all barriers in its course,

But add fresh fury to its force;

So, fierce, resistless, sweeps along

Our Army’s torrent vast and strong,

Collecting strength and power each day

By obstacles thrown in its way,

Till all surmounted, land and sea

Shall bail the flag of Liberty.

Of all that patriotic host

Say, which should he extolled the most?

Since all with equal zeal awoke,

To save us from the despot’s yoke.

From Maine to California’s shore,

We hear the wild, tumultuous roar:

From the great river of the North,

To where Ohio sallies forth

To join the Mississippi’s tide,

On which our commerce free must ride;

From Mississippi to the plains,

Where miners delve for golden grains,

All o’er this Northern continent,

So lately smiling in content,

We hear the drums and bugles sound,

The tramp of squadrons o’er the ground,

All ready for the glorious fight,

For God, for Liberty and Right!

And as they swiftly march along,

They wake the echoes with this song;